Lights, Camera, ACTION!
by Amandah Leigh
Summary: It's 1996 and a new sensation is sweeping the wizarding world: Video Dating. This Muggle trend got its start in the US in the 80s, but took awhile to hit witches and wizards in the UK. It's now become the Next Big Thing, especially among purebloods and half-bloods who didn't manage to find That Special Someone at Hogwarts. These are their stories.
1. Andromeda and Ted Tonks

**Lights, Camera, ACTION!**

 **Rated: T**

 **Trigger Warnings:** none apply

 **Genre:** comedy, romance, light drama

 **Summary:** It's 1996 and a new sensation is sweeping the wizarding world - Video Dating. This Muggle trend got its start in America in the 80s, but took awhile to hit witches and wizards in the UK, namely due to lack of understanding and accessibility of Muggle technology. But it's become the Next Big Thing, especially among purebloods and half-bloods who didn't manage to find That Special Someone while attending Hogwarts. These are their stories.

 **Explanation:** On one HP fanfic FB group earlier this year, someone posted a link to an 80s Video Dating compilation and this sparked a number of authors to discuss working together to create a massive crack!fic inspired by it. That project fell by the wayside, but when it looked like it was still happening I wrote the chapters I was supposed to have contributed. Not wanting them to go to waste, I decided to forgo the crack!fic elements and post mine here, but no one else's, and I'm doing so without the overall premise that had been decided (which tied them all together) as I am not interested in stealing others' ideas.

 **Length:** 5 completed chapters, with a possibility of 2 more.

 **Enjoy!**

 **-AL**

* * *

 **Lights, Camera, ACTION!**

 **TAPE ONE:**

 **ANDROMEDA AND TED TONKS**

"Ted, fix your collar. You look a mess." Andromeda Tonks folded over the collar of her husband's white and green polo shirt, and smoothed an imaginary wrinkle in the front. "We want them to want us!"

"Er… _them_?" He shifted on his stool, looking anxious, and wiped his sweaty palms on his tan trousers. "How many new 'friends' are we looking to find?"

They had set up the tall kitchen stools in the sitting room, in front of the fireplace, because Andromeda insisted it was better, lighting-wise, than any other room in the house. She'd already removed all of the family photographs from the mantle – no need to drive home the fact that they'd been married with a child for nearly thirty years – and they had practiced their spiel several times before setting up the borrowed video equipment (a Muggle invention).

"What do you think?" she asked, smiling almost naturally.

"You look nice, dear," said Ted. He tucked an errant hair behind her ear. "Quite nice."

Andromeda was wearing a mauve button-down sundress, fitted, that showed off a bit of leg and accentuated her chest, but did not scream 'trying too hard.' At least, that's what she'd assured him when she put it on that morning.

"Thank you."

"So…" He glanced nervously at the camera. "How many friends did you say?"

"Ideally, we'll find another couple," answered Andromeda. She positioned herself back on the stool, facing the 1991 camcorder on its tripod, a gift she'd given him five anniversaries ago. "Ready?"

"Not at all," he answered honestly.

She didn't seem to hear. Or care.

"Good." She tossed her hair and positioned herself carefully, one leg crossed over the other to show a little thigh. "Action."

He smiled uncomfortably. She smiled subtly, seductively. He tried not to show too many teeth, though she'd always said he had very nice teeth, so maybe he should…

"Cut!" She glared at him.

"What?"

"Why are you making that stupid face?"

"I'm not!"

"You certainly are!" She huffed, blowing a stray curl out of her eyes. "Halfway between a grimace and a grin. You look like an imbecile. Just… smile naturally. Give it a go."

He gave it a go.

"Better. Take two. Turn to the camera, and…" She took a deep breath and let it out slowly. "Action!"

"How are we going to edit this later?" he asked. "We don't have a telly."

"CUT!" She swiveled back to face him again. "Every time you talk, we need to stop."

"We haven't stopped." He gestured toward the camcorder. "The red light's been on all this time. You just keep yelling 'cut' like we're on the set of a bloody film. I am sorry to tell you, my dear, but I am not Lawrence Olivier and you are no Helen Mirren."

"You've always carried a torch for Helen Mirren," said Andromeda with a hint of jealousy. "Dragged me to all her bloody movies... I saw 'Where Angels Fear to Tread' four times!"

"You resemble the other actress in that one," said Ted. "Don't you think? Helena Bon-"

"No, I don't think so. Hush, we're wasting time. And tape. We have only so much tape. And time. ACTI-"

"I don't know about this, Andromeda. What if the couple we find can't be discrete? We don't want our business all over the Evening Prophet's Society and Scandals page!"

"We'll cross that bridge when we come to it."

"And you never answered – without a telly and a tape player, how will we edit out all this extr–"

"Merlin's beard, Ted, would you stop worrying? We're never going to make friends if you're pouting!" She leaned over to kiss his cheek. "Chin up, dear. I'll figure out how to edit it later. If we have to, we'll rent a television for a day. I'm sure that's a thing Muggles do."

"I don't think-"

"ACTION!" She swiveled on the stool again and smiled dazzlingly at the camera. "Hello. I'm Andromeda and this is my husband, Ted."

Ted half-waved.

"We're seeking new friends for dinners out or breakfasts in-"

Ted snorted.

"What's funny?" Her eyes flashed. "CUT!"

"Dinners out or breakfasts in? Why don't you just say, 'We're swingers'?"

"Because it's 1996, not 1969! No one says 'swingers' anymore!" She rolled her eyes. "Let's try this again. Action!"

"Hello." Ted smiled. "I'm Ted and this is my wife, Andromeda. We've been happily married since 1972, and-"

"Don't tell them how bloody long we've been happily married! We're not looking to win a twenty-fifth anniversary cruise to Nova Scotia, we're trying to spice up our exceedingly dull sex life!"

"That's it, then." He looked to the sky as if saying a prayer. "We're looking to spice up our excee-"

"Not yet!" She again adjusted herself on the stool. "Action!" _Smile_. "Hello, we're Ted and Andromeda. We're making this lovely little video beca-"

Ted broke in. "Because we've been married too damn long! So now we're looking for new friends to join us for dinner, breakfast, and sex that can't be described as 'exceedingly dull.' Please respond promptly, we're desperate."

"We're _not_ desperate," said Andromeda, but she looked and sounded… desperate. "We're a fun and attractive couple in our forties-"

Ted leaned over and undid Andromeda's top three buttons, revealing a bit of cleavage. "Perhaps if you looked less formal…"

She swatted away his hand. "Why don't we just sit here starkers, then?"

Ted stood and began untucking his shirt. "If you think it would help."

 _"_ _Merlin's bloody balls, WHAT IS THIS?"_

Both Ted and Andromeda turned to see Nymphadora in the doorway, followed closely by her friend (and more?) Remus Lupin. Nymphadora was choking back laughter, but there was a look of sheer horror on Lupin's face. They'd arrived in time to hear everything from "Cruise to Nova Scotia" on.

"Oh, hullo," said Ted. He tugged awkwardly at his sleeve. "Nice of you to drop in."

"CUT!" shouted Andromeda. "Just send the bloody tape in like that, I'm done."


	2. Bellatrix Black Lestrange

**A/N:**

If you'd like to see a particular character covered, feel free to leave a comment or PM me! I may be slow, but I take requests. :) Characters already upcoming include Severus Snape, Alecto Carrow, and the Malfoys, with possible additions of Fenrir Greyback and Lord Voldemort.

 **-AL**

* * *

 **Lights, Camera, ACTION!**

 **TAPE TWO:**

 **BELLATRIX BLACK LESTRANGE**

Bellatrix Black Lestrange glared into the full-length, freestanding mirror in her sister's bedroom. She silently scrutinized her appearance. Her heavy-lidded dark eyes had great bags under them, the result of too little sleep, and her sallow skin was slightly burnt from her brief walk in the sun on the grounds of Malfoy Manor earlier in the evening. After nearly fifteen years in prison, she'd grown accustomed to the dark; her pale complexion couldn't handle the daylight.

She was thin, much too thin, though she'd been eating well since vacating her prison cell. Her sister made sure of it. A house-elf catered to her personally, and kept her happy with a steady diet of lamb and lobster and sticky toffee pudding - all her favorites. She was finally putting on weight, though her cheekbones remained high, her collar bone still stuck out, and, under her corset, her ribcage was visible.

But her breasts were filling out again, and she still had hips, and her thick, untamable hair gave her an almost ethereal look she rather liked.

"You look lovely," said Narcissa reassuringly from behind the camcorder.

Bellatrix transferred her glare from her reflection to the large black object atop the borrowed tripod.

"Tell me again, what magic is this?"

"It's Muggle magic, but it's… good." Narcissa smiled. "Trust me. Everyone is doing it, it is _the_ way to find a date in 1996. We record your advertisement - well, not advertisement exactly, but your... your personals ad - and send it in, then wizards will watch it and if they feel they may connect with you, they'll reach out by owl. Simple. Effective. It's how Thorfinn Rowle found Euphemia Burke and they're already engaged!"

"They could have found each other in other ways, though."

"But they didn't. And you haven't found anyone in other ways, either. So look here, at this little red dot, smile, and tell the world what you're looking for in a wizard."

"What I'm looking for in a wizard," Bellatrix repeated.

"Yes," said Narcissa. "Describe the ideal man."

"Ideal man. I can do that." Bellatrix tossed back her hair, thrust out her chest, tilted up her chin, and tried to look both her best and completely natural at the same time.

"Foremost, I want someone tall…"

"Yes."

"Slender…"

"Good."

"Hairless…"

"Er… alright…?"

"With long nails and red pupils and no nose and-"

"Bloody... Bella... No! You're not supposed to sit there and describe the Dark Lord!" Narcissa stepped in front of the camera, hands on her hips, as if scolding Draco when he was small rather than reprimanding her formidable older sister.

"You said to describe my ideal wizard!"

"NOT THE DARK LORD."

"He's my ideal wizard!"

"Describe a wizard in more general terms." Narcissa moved back behind the camera and pushed the Record button again. "Go."

"My name is Bellatrix, I'm approximately forty years of age, and I'm seeking a Dark Lord for evenings spent torturing Mug-"

"NOT A DARK LORD, JUST A WIZARD."

"Fine!" She sighed as if put out. "My name is Bellatrix. I'm seeking a wizard for evenings spent torturing Muggles and setting fire to their homes and bridges. I am hoping to find someone who enjoys sharing rack of lamb but is also happy feeding each other berries in bed. I need someone who likes to take long romantic walks on the beach after sunset in Barcelona, but is equally comfortable flying around the English countryside at midnight, seeking targets. I especially want a man always up for a game of 'Crucio the Auror,' and one who doesn't mind women who smoke."

"You don't smoke."

"But I might take up the habit and I don't want my wizard to mind. Oh, and you must not mind only leaving home together in the cover of darkness… I'm… out on… parole, at the moment."

Narcissa chuckled. "You haven't been paroled."

"It's _like_ parole."

"The Dark Lord broke you free from Azkaban and now you're the most wanted witch in the wizarding world." Narcissa sighed. "Most wanted, but can't find a date. Let's continue."

"I'm thirty-four years of age-"

"You're forty-five."

She tossed her hair haughtily, ignoring this correction. "I'm told I have a melodic laugh."

"A cackle. You cackle."

"Due to circumstances beyond my control I haven't been to bed with a man since 1981, but I assure you, I've not lost my touch."

"It's a dating video, you're not selling yourself like a common slag."

Bellatrix sneered at her sister, whose face was obscured by the camera.

"I'm technically married, but my husband is an impotent tosser and our marriage was arranged to unite our two old-line pureblood families. My duty was to give him a son, but as one of us is physically incapable of procreation..."

"They don't need that much information."

"I've got dark hair, heavy-lidded eyes, a perky, buxom chest…"

Narcissa gave an undignified snort.

"A trim waist, skin unmarred by sunlight…"

"They'll be able to see you. It's like a moving photograph, but with sound. And color."

"And none of my teeth are chipped or broken."

Narcissa rolled her eyes.

"Anything else, Bella?"

Bellatrix shook her head, but just before her sister switched off the camcorder, she added one last bit of pertinent instruction:

"Oh, yes... no Mudbloods need apply."


	3. Severus Snape

**A/N:**

Thank you to those who've read, reviewed, followed, and/or added to faves! It tickles me to know people are enjoying this bit of silliness.

 **-AL**

* * *

 **Lights, Camera, ACTION!**

 **TAPE THREE:**

 **SEVERUS SNAPE**

Severus Snape checked again to ensure he looked exactly as he wanted to – that his frock coat was free from wrinkles or stains, that it was buttoned up to his neck, that his sleeves came down halfway over his hands, and that his trousers were zipped – before leaning 'casually' against his desk and facing the camera.

"You don't look natural," said Minerva McGonagall, who was setting up the tripod. She'd borrowed it from Albus, who'd borrowed it from Andromeda Tonks, who'd initially found it in Nymphadora's bedroom.

"Facing the bed," Albus had said with a hint of a smile. "I assume this indicates that her relationship with Remus Lupin is both progressing well and has moved beyond the 'friendship' stage."

"You're a dirty old man," Minerva had scolded. But then she'd asked if she could 'have a look' at the Muggle technology herself, and upon discovering the craze sweeping their world, she could think of no one better suited for a dating video than her friend and colleague, the potions master.

"I feel like a fool," confessed Severus. "This will not be successful, and can only open me up to scrutiny and ridicule. What sort of women seeks a man through this sort of medium? Why have the anonymous personals columns fallen from favor? That is how my mother met my father. Though it was a Muggle paper, not the Prophet. The method worked fine, is what I'm saying. Why tamper with tradition?"

"Why, indeed, when we can only hope for you to have as happy a marriage as that of Eileen Prince." Minerva tutted and moved closer to him, to fuss with his attire. "If you weren't buttoned up more securely than Azkaban…"

He shrugged her off like a child being primped by his mummy. "I happen to feel most comfortable when buttoned up!"

"Don't mention that in your video." She pinched his cheeks, hoping to bring some color to them, but he swatted at her hands.

"What shall I mention?"

"Your age, profession, height… women seem to like a tall man… Keep it simple and be honest. Perhaps share a hobby or two, something that makes you unique. List what you're looking for in a woman."

"A pulse," he said, sneering. "I set my standards low; I hardly have room to be picky."

"Stop that Severus, dear. Surely you're seeking a woman who's capable of doing more than breathing independently? Come, come, sit." She patted his desk. He settled on the edge. "You must have been attracted to a woman at some point in your life, yes?"

"I suppose." His brow furrowed. He was thinking of a certain ginger Gryffindor, but naturally he'd not reveal _that_ to Minerva, of all people.

"And what did you fancy about her?"

"Hair. Eyes. Torso. Hands. Breasts."

"Yes, yes, I'm sure she had all the regular body parts." Minerva sighed and rolled her eyes. This was nearly as painful as trying to teach that bumbling babbling baboon Ronald Weasley to dance before the Yule Ball. At least, this time, she wasn't likely to leave the room with bruised toes. "As a _person_ , though, Severus. What did you fancy about her _as a person?"_

"She was…" He pictured her. Ginger hair. Green eyes. Slender, but not waifish. Small hands, good with both a wand and when stirring a cauldron... but then tried to go beyond, to the core of who she was, even though it hurt his heart to do so.

"She was brilliant. Kind-hearted. Independent. Headstrong. She did not judge people on their looks or natural abilities, but on their actions, the way they treated others. She tried to see the good in everyone, including me, even when I had very little good left. She wouldn't allow anyone to best her without a fight, nor would she allow herself or anyone around her to be bullied. She was confident, but she had a quiet vulnerability she rarely displayed, except to her closest friends. She was fearless. She was… _good._ Genuinely good. And, fiercely, she loved."

He folded his hands and faced the floor. The sneer he'd been wearing dissipated, leaving a look of great sorrow in its place.

"But she's gone, now."

"I'm sorry," said Minerva softly. "She sounds like a beautiful person."

"Inside and out," he agreed. He stood. "I can't do this."

"Of course you can! Sit, sit!" She manhandled him back to his desk perch. "You want a kind-hearted woman who sees the good in everyone, one who judges people for their actions and not their looks or natural abilities, one with… with hair, eyes, hands, and breasts. Yes?"

He couldn't help a chuckle from escaping his lips.

"Something to that effect."

"Let's try it, then, eh? What's there to lose?"

"My dignity."

"It was a rhetorical question." She positioned herself behind the camera and pressed the Record button, just as Albus had shown her, as Andromeda had shown him.

"Good evening."

"No, stop, no good."

"No good? All I've said is, 'good evening!'" He appeared highly affronted. "What's wrong with that?"

"You don't know she'll be watching in the evening. If she is, it will seem invasive for you to know as much. If she's not, it'll distract her from your next words. Try, 'hello.'"

"I rarely say, 'Hello.' Too common. Too informal."

"Try 'Wotcher.'"

"Am I trying to chat up Nymphadora? I could do that without a video; she's at Headquarters all the bloody time, panting after the werewolf."

"Skip the pleasantries, then. Go straight into it."

"That's how my dates usually go," quipped Severus dryly. "Skip the pleasantries, get straight into it. But they cost by the hour."

"Severus Snape!" Minerva gasped, scandalized. Surely he wasn't saying he typically _hired_ women to-

"Relax, Minerva. I was being sardonic."

"Well, stop being sardonic. Say, 'Greetings,' if you must. Then straight into your introduction: My name is Severus Snape. I am the professor of Potions at Hogwarts School of–"

"Yes, I believe I can manage my name and occupation without prompting, thank you."

She took a deep breath and let it out slowly, as if counting to ten, while he waited.

"Let's start again. Greetings…"

"Greetings. My name is Severus Snape. I am the professor of Potions at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, where I have been employed since 1981, though I have long felt I deserved the potion of Defense Against the Dark Arts instruct-"

"Is this video being presented to unwed witches seeking wizards, or are we handing it over to Albus after we've finished with the hope of securing you a new position?"

Severus scowled.

"I'll start again."

"Please do."

There was a three second pause, then Severus went in for another attempt.

"Greetings. My name is Severus Snape. I am the professor of Potions at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, where I have been employed since 1981. I am thirty-six years of age, just under six feet tall, and a Capricorn – which means I'm serious, independent, and determined, if you abide by that vapid rubbish. As far as I am aware, I have sired no bastards, and-"

"Merlin's beard, Severus!" Minerva folded her arms. "While I am certain there are women who will appreciate your lack of illegitimate children, it's hardly a selling point when put that way!"

"I'm being honest. You directed me to be honest."

"Be less honest."

He exhaled deeply. "Very well. Let us begin again."

"Alright. Whenever you're ready."

"Greetings. My name is Severus Snape. I am the professor of Potions at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, where I have been employed since 1981. I am thirty-six years of age, just under six feet tall, and a Capricorn – which means I'm serious, independent, and determined, though I personally put little stock in astrological signs. I have never been married and thankfully have no children as of yet…" Catching Minerva's discerning eye, he quickly added, "Though I would not be averse to them in the future."

She smiled approvingly and nodded. He went on.

"I enjoy a quiet sort of life. My days are spent in a classroom in front of dunder... er... students. Molding the impressionable minds of young learners."

Minerva nodded again.

"My evenings are primarily spent at home by the fireplace, or having an intimate dinner with close friends, though I do volunteer in a couple of part-time positions after grading homework is done. I enjoy reading, mystery novels in particular. Brewing potions is both part of my livelihood and a passion. I drink Earl Gray and red wine – not at the same time, of course – and I embody several quintessentially Slytherin qualities: ambition, cunning, self-preservation, and intense loyalty directed only toward those for whom I care."

Severus faltered, momentarily distracted, because behind the camera, Minerva was making what looked like an obscene gesture with both hands. It took a second to realize she was outlining a woman's form in the air, then pointing from her eye to him. (What are you looking for in a woman?)

"Oh! Erm..." He cleared his throat. "I am seeking an intelligent, honest woman for fascinating conversation to help break from the tedium of everyday life, one with whom I can engage in an impassioned debate about the topics of the day without either of us resorting to pettiness or pouting. I need a woman who is well-read and politically savvy, one who has internalized the meaning of the words 'decorum' and 'discretion,' and one who does not mind forearm tattoos." He tugged awkwardly at his left sleeve. "Though I'd prefer she not have any herself."

Minerva waved her hands, a nonverbal cue to wrap it up.

"Bonus points for the Hogwarts House of your choice if you have ginger hair or green eyes. That is all. Thank you for your consideration. Cordially, Severus Snape."

He slipped off the desk.

"Am I done now?"

"I'll erase those errors at the start and send it in!" said Minerva, beaming. "I'm proud of you, Severus."

"If that's the truth, Minerva, I may not be the only person in this room who doesn't have high standards."


	4. Alecto Carrow

**A/N:**

Thanks for reading! I've had a request to write Antonin Dolohov, which is a new character for me. We'll see if I can manage! :) Any others?

 **-AL**

* * *

 **Lights, Camera, ACTION!**

 **TAPE FOUR:**

 **ALECTO CARROW**

Alecto Carrow fidgeted in the armchair, twisting her fingers together, while Euphemia Burke plaited her strawberry blonde hair.

Narcissa Malfoy bent down before the big-boned, strong-jawed young woman, and swiped the back of her hand with a tube of orangey lipstick.

"What's that?" asked Alecto, alarmed.

"I need to see which color will work best on you." Narcissa swiped another, deep crimson this time. "Hm. No. Something pinker, perhaps?"

"Try an autumn color," suggested Euphemia. "Have you got a dusty tan or rosey brown?"

"Light brown lips?" asked Alecto. "Ow! You're pulling."

"Your hair's a rat's nest! When did you last condition?"

"Condition? Ow!" Alecto's head jerked back as Euphemia pulled again. Narcissa swiped the 'rose chocolate kiss' along the back of her hand.

"Oh, this _is_ nice, well done, Euphemia."

"Why am I bothering?" asked Alecto with a resigned sigh. "I can't remember the last time a man showed interest in me. I tried answering one of these videos, you know. I wrote a letter to Sev… to someone seeking a woman with ginger hair and green eyes, like me."

"Your eyes aren't green." Narcissa squinted at her face. "They're brown."

"My eyes are gold with flecks of green."

"They're brown," said Narcissa definitively. "Do this." She widened her mouth, tightening her lips. Alecto copied. Narcissa applied the lipstick.

"Here I am!" Bellatrix Lestrange swept into the room dramatically, and looked disappointed when no one celebrated her arrival. "I brought the camcorder! Had to steal it from that tired old hag Madam Rosemerta. Nicked two bottles of mead for good measure."

"Excellent," said Narcissa. "Set it up between the windows. The light coming in will brighten Alecto's face."

"Are you sure we want her that well-lit?" asked Bellatrix.

Alecto pouted. Euphemia and Narcissa glared at Bellatrix.

"She will look _lovely_ when we're through with her!" Narcissa blotted Alecto's lips with a handkerchief. "Won't she, Euphemia?"

 _"Lovely,"_ the skinny brunette agreed. "You know, Alecto, Thorfinn and I met fifteen years ago shortly after he finished his education at Durmstrang, but we hardly spoke, and then, after he saw my video, he contacted me by owl to ask me to dinner, and look at us now!"

"You're happy together?"

"Would we be getting married this summer if we weren't happy together?"

"No?" guessed Alecto.

"We have so much in common. We both enjoy swimming and gobstones and baklava, we're entirely dedicated to the Dark Lord, and our sex life is nothing short of incredible."

"You're having sex even though you're not yet married?" Alecto appeared to find this quite salacious.

"We had sex on our very first date, before pudding," said Euphemia. "We'd gone to a Muggle restaurant and excused ourselves upon finishing dinner for a quick fuck in the coatroom."

Alecto's mouth dropped open cartoonishly.

"You've never had sex in a public place?" asked Euphemia. "Thorfinn and I cannot be the only ones who've-"

"Oh, Lucius and I have," said Narcissa. She waved her wand, Accioing over the mascara. "When we were younger, of course. Before Draco."

"Did you?" Bella sniggered. "Where?"

"Oh, everywhere. Everywhere we could manage, that is. In the Hogwarts owlery. In an alcove off Knockturn Alley. In the Mediterranean Sea. On the London Underground. In the cellar of Honeydukes. In the garden behind Grandmother Rosier's cottage house. On the Knight Bus."

"You've taken the Knight Bus?" This, more than anything else, seemed to shock Bellatrix. "Bit slummy for you, isn't it?"

"We only took the Knight Bus to see if we could get away with having sex on the upper deck. Which, it turns out, we could."

"You don't anymore, though?" asked Euphemia. "Not since Draco? Oh, I hope my marriage doesn't turn dull after children."

"Oh, it's not dull! We've simply moved onto other things," said Narcissa dismissively. "Once we felt we'd thoroughly accomplished public sex, it ceased to be exciting."

"Do tell, Alecto…" Bellatrix positioned the camera on the tripod and smiled at her fellow Death Eater. "Where is the most interesting place in which you've given yourself to a man?"

"I…" Alecto bit her lip, getting pinkish-brown lipstick on her crooked teeth. "Er..."

"Salazar's sins!" breathed Bellatrix. Narcissa gaped.

"What?" asked Euphemia.

"She's a virgin." Bellatrix cackled. "A virgin, a vigin! A forty-year-old virgin!"

"I'm thirty-six!"

"Thirty-six-year-old virgin, then!" Bellatrix doubled, laughing so hard tears formed in corners of her eyes. "We ought to fix you with Severus Snape! Now there's a thirty-something virgin if ever I've seen one!"

"He didn't respond to my owl!" Alecto shoved Narcissa away, even though only one of her eyes was lined and had darkened lashes. "He said he wants a ginger woman who drinks wine and doesn't mind tattoos, but I wrote him a very fine letter and he hasn't replied!" She burst into tears.

"Oh, well done, Bella," snapped Narcissa. "Now I'll have to fix her face all over again!"

"Least her hair looks nice," said Euphemia, who was tying off the thick French braid.

"Sorry," giggled Bellatrix, not at all sorry. "But it's quite funny to me. A virgin, at her age!"

"In case you've forgotten, _I_ had to go into hiding after the Dark Lord fell, which did not exactly lend itself to-"

"Oh, poor ickle mite, you had to go into _hiding!_ Were there no men in Bavaria or Albania or wherever it was you crawled under a rock? How _terrifying_ for you, being in _hiding,_ while the rest of us were locked up in _Azk-"_

"Stop that, Bellatrix, you snarky, bitter old crow!" Narcissa was only marginally more empathetic to Alecto's plight than her sister, but she was quite sore about her work on the woman's face going to waste. She'd done so well with the contouring!

"My apologies, Cissy. From here on out, I'll hold my tongue."

"Wait a moment…" said Euphemia. "Did you say _Severus Snape_ made one of these videos? That pale, ornery, overgrown bat? You responded to _him?"_

"Moving on!" Narcissa Accioed over her handkerchief and wiped the tears from Alecto's ruddy cheeks. "I haven't all afternoon for this. Let's get you fixed up so we can start recording."

"I'll manage the camcorder," offered Bellatrix.

"You'll do no such thing," said Narcissa. "I don't trust you."

It took about fifteen more minutes, but finally, Alecto was ready. She gave a high, wheezing nervous giggle as she got comfortable in the armchair, her long ginger braid cascading down her right shoulder, her makeup impeccable, her short-sleeved blouse unbuttoned only twice at the top, her Dark Mark carefully hidden by the purple pillow cradled in her lap.

"Oi there, name's Alecto. Come from London, went to Hogwarts. Thirty-six, good teeth, clean. No diseases. No children. Pureblood. Looking for the same for companionship, 'adult relations,' maybe marriage, if our families approve. No smokers, no alcoholics, no addicts, no gamblers, no gluttons."

"Look in a mirror and lower the bar," hissed Bellatrix. Narcissa elbowed her. From behind the camera, Euphemia snorted. Alecto sighed.

"Alright, alcoholics are fine, gluttons and gamblers will be considered on a case-by-case basis, and only _my_ family has to approve. Er… what else, what else? Oh! I follow You-Know-Who, if you know who I mean. That's very important."

Bellatrix pantomimed smacking herself in the forehead. Narcissa elbowed her again, harder this time.

"I got one brother, if it works out between us, he'll probably have to live with us, you know… not much going on up here for him…" She tapped her temple.

"This is going well," Bellatrix muttered to Narcissa.

Narcissa stepped on her foot and elbowed her at the same time.

"Ouch!" she whispered loudly. Alecto flinched.

"Keep going love," Euphemia encouraged. "Any parting words?"

Alecto smirked at Bellatrix, who was now rubbing her injured ribs while standing on one foot to keep off the hurt one.

"Yes! I've never been to Azkaban, never even been arrested, because I was smart enough to escape the Aurors after the first war! Now I'm staying at Malfoy Manor with the Dark Lord himself, plus the Lestranges and Rookwood, where no one would even _think_ to look for us!" She crossed her arms and leaned back, a self-satisfied smirk on her well-contoured face.

"Stop recording!" Narcissa stalked over to Euphemia and pressed the button on the camcorder. "Start again, Alecto, you brainless sexless shapeless cow! And this time, don't tell the world you and the Dark Lord and half the bloody Azkaban escapees are hiding out in my home!"

"Oops." Alecto fidgeted. "Was it good up until that point?"

"You were doing brilliantly, dearie," Bellatrix assured her with a mocking undertone she knew Alecto wouldn't pick up on. "Keep it _exactly_ the same."

Alecto smiled, took a deep breath, and waited for Euphemia to hit the button to make the little red light come on.

"Oi there! Name's Alecto! Come from London, went to Hogwarts. Thirty-six, good teeth, clean. No diseases…"

* * *

 **NEXT UP:**

 **Narcissa & Lucius Malfoy**


	5. Lucius and Narcissa Malfoy

**A/N:**

Be advised, this chapter is closer to M-rated than the previous four.

 **-AL**

* * *

 **Lights, Camera, ACTION!**

 **TAPE FIVE:**

 **NARCISSA & LUCIUS MALFOY**

"I cannot believe you were going to wear _that,"_ said Narcissa Malfoy disdainfully to her husband.

"What's wrong with it?" He glanced at the bed, where he'd tossed the floor-length, ornate gold and navy blue crushed velvet wizard's robe he'd intended to wear open over a white dragon hide vest, with white silk trousers. He was standing in front of his wardrobe in nothing but satin undershorts and knee-high gray socks, while Narcissa set up the camcorder.

She intended for them to be videoed while sitting on the heavy oak hope chest at the foot of their king sized bed, though he would have preferred a less intimate setting, perhaps the parlor, drawing room, or library. Of course, he couldn't place too many demands on her, lest she might pull out entirely, meaning this was all for naught. Though considering it was his birthday gift, she might have been a little less... bossy... about the whole thing.

"We have to look as though we fit together," she said. She left the camera on its tripod and hurried to his wardrobe. She was already dressed in a form-fitting currant red Victorian bodice paired with a currant and black accented skirt that clung to her hips and flared only slightly toward the bottom. Her white-blonde hair was plaited up, and her red lips were made even brighter by her pale complexion and darkened lashes.

She'd spent _hours_ getting ready.

He'd taken a shower, combed his hair, and threw on the first outfit he found.

"Wear this." She handed him his high-collared black shirt and a long frock coat.

"I'll look like Severus."

She rolled her eyes. "Fine, this then."

It was similar, black, with buttons, but looked like a cross between a wizard's severe classic frock coat and the jacket for a Muggle tuxedo. He pulled it on over black trousers and a belt, no dragon scale vest, but he did insist upon his best lace up dragon-hide boots.

She quickly explained the way the camcorder worked.

"Afterward, we can play it back - there's a Muggle hotel in London where they've got a video player and a television in every room-"

"A what?" asked Lucius.

"Which will allow us to watch it before we've sent it out." She stood up straighter, thrusting her chest forward, shoulders back, exuding a confidence she didn't quite feel. "Unless you've changed your mind, my darling. I could gift you something else for your birthday."

"This is discrete?"

She nodded.

"Then it is what we shall do." He kissed her high cheekbone, tugged down on his sleeves, and sat in his pre-assigned seat. She handed him his mask. Like his Death Eater mask, it covered most of his face, but unlike the the Death Eater masks, it was gold and silver and adorned with small diamond chips around the eyes, purchased for a New Year's Eve masquerade many years ago. Narcissa slipped on her own mask and waited for Lucius to tie in in the back. Hers covered only half her face, purchased for the same extravagant party. It was white with a black lace overlay and several small feathers one side; it, too, was adorned with diamond chips around the eyes.

"Ready?" she asked.

"If you are," he answered.

She hit the Record button and moved to sit beside him.

"Good evening," he said silkily. "My name and face may be well known to many of you, but for the purpose of maintaining anonymity, given the circumstances, I have chosen to keep both close to the vest. My wife shall do same."

She inclined her head in the tinsiest nod.

"We are seeking someone considerate of our need for discretion, as our reputations are of the utmost importance to us. We are also seeking someone who understands the female form, and knows how to make a woman purr with pleasure. We are seeking someone for whom satisfaction of the baser desires of man comes naturally, one adept at taking the time to build and bring another to ecstasy before expecting anything in return, one who possesses a wicked and talented tongue, fingers that know when to be rough and when to be gentle, and better stamina than a thestral at breeding time. We are seeking someone who revels in having an audience, who can both give and get and knows when the time has come for each, one who can balance maintenance of dignity with indulgence in the darkest, most carnal desires, the-"

"Pleasures of the flesh," Narcissa broke in. She shifted slightly uncomfortable on the wood hope chest. "We are seeking a man who enjoys sex with a woman for the benefit of the woman, not one who lives and comes and goes and dies for himself. One who knows the importance of a deep and lasting kiss be it on these lips, or..." She let the end of the sentence hang, her eyes momentarily focused on her hands in her lap, the implication clear. She again made 'eye contact' with the camera lens, but her hips shifted again as she did so.

Lucius, too, looked somewhat uncomfortable, as if his trousers had suddenly gotten a little too tight. He let out a slightly shaky breath and nodded at her, an encouragement to continue. She went on.

"We seek a man who is not only immune to jealousy, but is spurred on by the knowledge he is being watched, studied, critiqued... loathed. You may have me, and I may have pleasure, and my husband may have the experience of knowing what it is to be tied to a chair, gagged, and forbidden from using magic, whilst watching another man taste and touch and violate his wife of nearly two decades."

"After that portion of the evening has been completed to our satisfaction, it shall be your turn to play observer," said Lucius. He reached over and placed his hand between both of Narcissa's. Her long, red nail scratched lightly at the back of his hand as her thumb traced circles on his inner wrist. "And, should all go well, you'll eventually be permitted to join us. We'll take my wife to the peak of bliss together, and not reach completion until she has unreservedly forgotten her own name, for her mind will have exploded from the sheer euphoria brought on by it all."

"Should we feel this has gone well, we would not be adverse to making it a regular occurrance."

"Indeed," agreed Lucius. "And should you fit with us, should we be a solid match, I promise, we shall make it worth your while in ways you cannot currently conceive, to be discussed and decided at a later date. But for now, we are seeking to fill a position to last one night..."

"One perfect, prolonged, pussy-pleasuring night..."

"During which you, frankly put, shall fuck my wife while I watch..."

"Lucius?" Narcissa sounded breathless, desperate.

"Yes?"

"I want you now."

"Now?"

"Now!"

"Now is good." He grabbed her, pulled her into her lap so she was straddling him, and buried his face between her breasts. She could feel the evidence of his arousal straining against the cloth of his trousers. She untied his mask and tossed it off the side of the bed, but left her own on. Their mouths met in a heated kiss; they did not part until both were in dire need of air.

"Fuck finding another man," panted Narcissa, as she and Lucius tore at each other's clothes. His trousers were unbuttoned. Her bodice was yanked down to expose her breasts. They were both breathing heavily, growing heady, mad for each other. His tongue laved over her nipple. Her long nails scraped at the back of his neck.

"Lucius, love, let's film ourselves doing it and watch later, from that hotel. Yes?"

"Yes! Fuck, Narcissa... yes!" He twisted and tossed her onto the bed with a quick, cheeky grin aimed directly at the camcorder. "Happy birthday to me!"

* * *

 **NEXT UP:**

 **Fenrir Greyback**

(Don't worry, his will include more humor and less smut. Or worry, I guess, if citrus is what you're into!)

Thanks for reading!

 **-AL**


	6. Fenrir Greyback

**A/N:**

I realize these are ridiculous; thanks for reading!

 **-AL**

* * *

 **Lights, Camera, ACTION!**

 **TAPE SIX:**

 **FENRIR GREYBACK**

"Muggle technology?" sneered the middle-aged, filthily dressed, lanky man, looking over the camcorder. "Is it on?"

"Yes, it's on," a female voice out of camera range assured him. "The red light means it's recording. Like a photograph, but with sound. And color."

"Photograph, but with sound and color." He picked shredded meat from his teeth with his long, sharp, yellowed pinkie nail. "Birds will be able to see me?"

"Yes, but I believe they prefer to be called 'women,'" said the woman off-camera. Leaving the camera on its tripod, she went to the man and fixed his collar. Even from behind, there was no mistaking her identity: Bellatrix Lestrange.

"Slags." The man sneered. "Every woman willing to shag a man she met through this Muggle rubbish is a slag."

"I met a man through one of these videos," she said. She licked her thumb and wiped away shmutz from his face.

"Case in point," he replied. "Everyone know _you're_ a whore. Even your husband has come to terms with it. He's also come inside every twenty-year-old bint trying to up herself through the Dark Lord's ranks. Did you know that? Did you know he fucks around on you? Did you know he says you're no good in bed? Like an icicle with tits, he says."

"Bite me," she snapped.

He grinned. "Could I?"

She slipped her wand out from her sleeve and pressed it against his adam's apple.

"Try it and die, you mangy beast."

Pleased at having riled her, the man brushed back his stringy, graying hair with his fingertips and sat upon the stool in front of the gates outside Malfoy Manor. There was snow on the ground around them, though it wasn't cold enough to have their teeth chattering... so long as the sun was still overhead.

"So, why we not doing this inside?"

"My sister doesn't like you in her home," answered Bellatrix. "You know that. Cissy says dogs belong outside. She also thinks they belong chained up like the animals they are, and I can't say I disagree."

"Fuck your sister."

"Down, boy." She adjusted her skirt and glanced at the camera. "I'm only doing this for you as a favor, so-"

"You're doing this for me so I don't tell the Dark Lord I caught you watching him sleep again." He scratched at the chest hair poking out from the top of his unwashed old shirt. "You know he hates that."

She went slightly red, but whether her blush was of embarrassment or anger he didn't know.

"I could Obliviate you, you know," she said. "Or _kill_ you. Who'd miss you? You're a _werewolf._ On a related note, are we directing this video toward human bitches or _actual_ bitches? Do you have a preference when it comes to species?"

"I'll fuck anything with a pussy," he answered.

"Charming." She backed away from him. "Now you sit on that stool and try to look like you're not the most vile creature to crawl out from under a rock since Nagini slithered up to the Dark Lord in that Albanian forest. Think you can manage that? At the very least, try to look human. Or human-adjacent."

"Fine." He grunted.

She moved back out of range, behind the camera.

"What now?"

"Tell the ladies what you're looking for."

"I'm looking for a fuck," he answered.

"Not like that! Start with something nice. 'Hello, my name is…' Then say a few nice things about yourself and a few nice things you'd like in a lady."

"Hello. My name is Fenrir Greyback. I'm a werewolf."

"Yes, lead off with that," she said sarcastically. "Women love to know the man they're seeing turns into a bloody beast when the full moon rises."

"Don't women like honesty?"

"Not _that much_ honesty. Start again."

He growled, his upper lip curled, but he also nodded.

"Hello. My name is Fenrir Greyback. I'm an honest man. I fancy _women,_ the fitter the better. I can smell arousal, but I don't mind if you want to play coy to hide it. I prefer tea to coffee, savory to sweet, and rare to well-done." He scratched at his kneecaps. "Let's see… What else? I enjoy taking women for long romantic walks in the moonlight."

From behind the camera, Bellatrix snorted.

"I also like it a bit rough. Primal. So if you're into biting, scratching, having a good time…"

She snorted again.

"Something funny, Lestrange?"

"No, sorry, allergies." She sniffled. "Go on, then."

"I'm looking for a lady in the streets but an animal in the bedroom, someone just like me. Prefer blondes, but I'm not in a position to be picky. Must enjoy being outdoors. Not looking to breed at the moment, so no one with fantasies of a house full of pups. Though I do like children." His mouth contorted into a creepy grin. "Like to _nip_ at them. Nibble. Take my time."

"Oh, women will be falling at your feet now," said Bellatrix, her voice dripping with sarcasm. "Or should I say, your paws?"

"I'd be better off with a bitch," snarled Greyback. "They go into heat, rut with the first male who comes along, and don't owl you the next day wanting to have dinner."

"It's a wonder you're single, a great catch like you."

"Fuck yourself."

"Rather fuck myself than a werewolf," muttered Bellatrix. "Anything else you'd like to say?"

"Only that this video better work. I want a bloody woman."

"We all have wants," said Bellatrix dismissively. "And it doesn't seem to matter _what_ we want; we women always seem to end up with dogs."

"That reminds me…" Now Greyback was scratching behind his ear. "Do you reckon I should mention I'm currently being treated for fleas?"

* * *

 **NEXT (LAST) UP:**

 **Lord Voldemort**

 **-AL**


	7. Lord Voldemort

**A/N:**

Last chapter. Enjoy!

 **-AL**

* * *

 **Lights, Camera, ACTION!**

 **TAPE SEVEN:**

 **TOM MARVOLO RIDDLE**

 **aka**

 **YOU KNOW WHO**

 **aka**

 **HE WHO MUST NOT BE NAMED**

 **aka**

 **THE DARK LORD**

 **aka**

 **LORD VOLDEMORT**

"Nagini, come."

The snake slithered behind her master, weaving around his feet, sticking out her tongue with a sharp hissss.

"Good girl." He approached the Muggle technology set up in the Drawing Room of Malfoy Manor, wand drawn. "Revelio!"

Nothing.

"Tell me your secrets!"

Nothing.

"Reveal yourself!"

Nothing.

"What are you?" He gently touched the camcorder, careful not to knock it from its tripod. He pressed a button. A red light came on.

"What is this magic?"

"My Lord?" Draco Malfoy entered the Drawing Room tentatively.

"Draco?" the Dark Lord turned and regarded the pale blond carefully. "You are home for Easter?"

"Yes, my Lord. I've just arrived. Mother sent me to ask you whether you'll be joining us for dinner this evening."

"I believe I will, yes." The Dark Lord traced one long, slender finger around the circular lens. "My dear boy, come closer."

"Cl-closer, my Lord?"

"What is this… contraption?"

"I… I don't know, my Lord." Draco moved closer, as directed, but was clearly uncomfortable doing so. "I've never seen one before."

"Why do you parents have it?"

"I don't know, sir." Draco examined the camcorder. A little door on the side was easy to pry open, revealing a dark rectangle.

"Play," read the Dark Lord, looking at one of the buttons near the Record that had turned the red button on.

The face of a woman who looked strangely like Bellatrix, but not Bellatrix, popped up on the rectangle.

"Is it a painting?" asked the Dark Lord.

"Or a photograph?" asked Draco.

But the image began to speak.

 _"ACTION!" The woman who looked like Bellatrix swiveled on a tall stool in front of a fireplace in a modest, unfamiliar sitting room and smiled dazzlingly at the camera._

"Who is this? I demand to know!" said the Dark Lord.

 _"Hello," said the woman. "I'm Andromeda and this is my husband, Ted."_

 _Ted half-waved._

 _"We're seeking new friends for dinners out or breakfasts in-"_

 _Ted snorted._

"Your aunt and uncle," said the Dark Lord. "Parents of the Metamorph, Tonks."

"Who?" asked Draco.

 _"What's funny?" On the rectangle, Andromeda's eyes flashed, increasing her resemblance to Bellatrix. "CUT!"_

 _"Dinners out or breakfasts in?" asked Ted. "Why don't you just say, 'We're swingers'?"_

 _"Because it's 1996, not 1969! No one says 'swingers' anymore!" She rolled her eyes. "Let's try this again. Action!"_

"What are 'swingers'?" asked Draco.

"Ask your father," answered the Dark Lord.

 _"Hello." On the rectangle, Ted smiled. "I'm Ted and this is my wife, Andromeda. We've been happily married since 1972, and-"_

 _"Don't tell them how bloody long we've been happily married! We're not looking to win a twenty-fifth anniversary cruise to Nova Scotia, we're trying to spice up our exceedingly dull sex life!"_

Draco and the Dark Lord pulled identical faces of disgust.

"That's my aunt and uncle?" asked Draco.

"What is the purpose of this?" asked the Dark Lord.

"What does this button do?" Draco pushed it. The images sped up and the sound made a whiny noise that couldn't be identified has speech. He lifted his finger when he saw another aunt – this time, the one he knew – pop up.

"Bellatrix!" The Dark Lord grabbed the screen, nearly knocking the camcorder off the tripod. "Is she trapped? Bellatrix, speak to us! Tell us how to free you from this torment!"

 _"_ _Look here," said the voice of Narcissa Malfoy, who could not be seen in the image. "At this little red dot, smile, and tell the world what you're looking for in a wizard."_

 _"What I'm looking for in a wizard," Bellatrix repeated._

 _"Yes," said Narcissa. "Describe the ideal man."_

"My mum's in there too!" exclaimed Draco.

The Dark Lord hushed him. "I need to hear this."

 _Bellatrix tossed back her hair, thrust out her chest, tilted up her chin, and tried to look both her best and completely natural at the same time._

 _"Foremost, I want someone tall…"_

 _"Yes," said Narcissa._

 _"Slender…"_

 _"Good," said Narcissa._

 _"Hairless…"_

 _"Er… alright…?" said Narcissa._

 _"With long nails and red pupils and no nose and-"_

 _"Bloody... Bella... No! You're not supposed to sit there and describe the Dark Lord!"_

"I'm the Dark Lord!" His red-slitted eyes widened. "I am the ideal man!"

Draco glanced at him, his mouth curled into a sneer, but the boy managed to keep from reacting out loud.

 _"You said to describe my ideal wizard!" Bellatrix was saying on the screen._

 _"NOT THE DARK LORD!" said Narcissa._

 _"He's my ideal wizard!"_

"I am the ideal wizard," said the Dark Lord, in awe. Draco couldn't help thinking it looked like he might be standing up a little straighter, his chest thrust out. At his feet, Nagini hissed.

"Not a word from you," the Dark Lord said, glaring down at her. "You heard the woman. I am the ideal-"

 _"My name is Bellatrix," she was continuing. "I'm approximately forty years of age, and I'm seeking a Dark Lord for evenings spent torturing Mug-"_

 _"NOT A DARK LORD, JUST A WIZARD."_

"Is this why she watches me sleep?" the Dark Lord asked Draco. "I assumed she was planning an assassination."

"Er… she watches you what?"

 _She tossed her hair haughtily. "I'm told I have a melodic laugh," on-screen Bellatrix said._

"You do!" said the Dark Lord. "A lovely laugh."

"She cackles," said Draco, at the same time his mother said, "A cackle, you cackle."

"She's beautiful," said the Dark Lord.

Draco began backing away, hoping he could make it all the way from the room… perhaps all the way out of the Manor and back to Hogwarts… unnoticed.

"I need to see more!" The Dark Lord turned his wand on the boy. "How did you speed up the time? You have a reverse Time Turner?"

"I pressed the button," said Draco. Defeated, he made his way back to the Dark Lord's side and pressed the button that said FAST FORWARD. The face of Severus Snape appeared.

"Stop!" demanded the Dark Lord. "What is this? Has he stolen away Bellatrix?"

"Not bloody likely," muttered Draco. The mental image of his aunt and the Potions Master popped into his head and he shuddered.

 _"That's how my dates usually go," quipped Severus dryly on the screen. "Skip the pleasantries, get straight into it. But they cost by the hour."_

 _"Severus Snape!" the voice of Minerva McGonagall gasped, scandalized._

 _"Relax, Minerva. I was being sardonic."_

 _"Well, stop being sardonic. Say, 'Greetings,' if you must. Then straight into your introduction: My name is Severus Snape. I am the professor of Potions at Hogwarts School of–"_

 _"Yes, I believe I can manage my name and occupation without prompting, thank you."_

"I think they're trying to find dates," said Draco. "That's what this magic is. It's a date-finder."

"A magical date finder?" The Dark Lord looked skeptical. "How does it work?"

"I don't know, my Lord. Wish I did."

"Why?" The Dark Lord tapped the screen, wondering if Bellatrix could hear him. "In need of a date, young mister Malfoy? I am quite certain your parents could arrange a marriage for you if you're incapable, but perhaps not for another couple of years."

"No, sir, thank you." Draco cleared his throat. "I do alright at Hogwarts."

"I did well myself, when I was your age." The Dark Lord smiled and stroked Nagini's head. "I was quit the catch as a young man. Ladies threw themselves at my feet." He sighed, thinking of Bellatrix, the way she smiled at him, the way she always seemed desperate for his approval, thirsty for his attention. At what point had he failed to recognize the affections of a woman? When did he stop thinking of himself as an attractive fellow, a virile man, a sexual being?

When was the last time he got laid?

He quickly did the math.

And came up with… 1972.

But, in his defense, he'd been busy. His incredible rise to power had taken eleven years, from 1970 to his brief hiatus that began in 1981.

And now it was 1996. So… twenty-four years.

He hadn't had sex in twenty-four years?

"I haven't had sex in twenty-four years," he said aloud.

"Er… okay?" said Draco.

"What's next? Does Bella- er, does anyone explain how this is supposed to work? Not that I care. I do not intend to… I am above the base and carnal desires of man, of course! But for others… if you wanted to partake…"

"As I said, my Lord, I'm fine at Hogwarts. I have a girlfriend. She won't go all the way, yet, but-"

"Shut it, Malfoy. No one wants to hear about your pathetic, prepubescent love affair."

"I'm not prepub-"

"Bellatrix!" Her face had disappeared from the screen. "Where did she go? Bella!" He raised his voice. "BELLA, are you alive in there?!"

Alecto Carrow came up next.

"ALECTO! Bring me Bellatrix!"

"My mother's in here, too," said Draco, squinting at the screen. "In another dress. It must be another day. It's like… like a photograph with sound. And color. I wish I could understand how-"

 _"Oi there, name's Alecto. Come from London, went to Hogwarts. Thirty-six, good teeth, clean. No diseases. No children. Pureblood. Looking for the same for companionship, 'adult relations,' maybe marriage, if our families approve. No smokers, no alcoholics, no addicts, no gamblers, no gluttons."_

 _"Look in a mirror and lower the bar," hissed the voice of Bellatrix._

"That's Auntie!" exclaimed Draco. "She's there, but we cannot see her."

"MOVE, COW!" The Dark Lord demanded of Alecto. "Where is Bellatrix?"

"This is Malfoy Manor," said Draco, studying the background. "That's a guest bedroom on the second floor. I recognize the drapes."

"Perhaps they're still there!" said the Dark Lord.

"But that's not the dress Mother was wearing when she met me at the train station."

"Perhaps she changed." The Dark Lord sneered at Draco. "Would such a thing be so unheard of?"

"With all due respect, my Lord, I don't think we're watching this in the present. It's as if it happened before… like a photograph, like I said, only-"

"Quiet!"

 _"I've never been to Azkaban," Alecto was saying. "Never even been arrested, because I was smart enough to escape the Aurors after the first war! Now I'm staying at Malfoy Manor with the Dark Lord himself, plus the Lestranges and Rookwood, where no one would even_ _think_ _to look for us!" She crossed her arms and leaned back, a self-satisfied smirk on her well-contoured face._

 _"Stop recording!"_

The screen went black.

"Recording," mused the Dark Lord. "That's what they've done. Made a record of these… these videos. These dating attempts. These… these advertisements. But how?"

"Let's keep going." Draco fast forwarded again, this time landing on his parents wearing masquerade disguises. "Wait, what's this? Mother and Father?"

"Speaking of swingers," hissed the Dark Lord in Parseltongue. Nagini brushed her head against his hand and hissed back, almost as if laughing.

"That's their bedroom! What are they… why…?"

"Listen!"

 _"We are seeking someone considerate of our need for discretion, as our reputations are of the utmost importance to us," said Lucius, who was sitting on top of a hope chest at the end of his and Narcissa's bed. "We are also seeking someone who understands the female form, and knows how to make a woman purr with pleasure. We are seeking someone for whom satisfaction of the baser desires of man comes naturally, one adept at taking the time to build and bring another to ecstasy before expecting anything in return, one who possesses a wicked and talented tongue, fingers that know when to be rough and when to be gentle, and better stamina than a thestral at breeding time. We are seeking someone who revels in having an audience, who can both give and get and knows when the time has come for each, one who can balance maintenance of dignity with indulgence in the darkest, most carnal desires, the-"_

 _"Pleasures of the flesh," Narcissa broke in. She shifted slightly uncomfortable on the hope chest. "We are seeking a man who enjoys sex with a woman for the benefit of the woman, not one who lives and comes and goes and dies for himself. One who knows the importance of a deep and lasting kiss be it on these lips, or..." She let the end of the sentence hang, her eyes momentarily focused on her hands in her lap, the implication clear. She again made 'eye contact' with the camera lens, but her hips shifted again as she did so._

"MERLIN'S BEARD, NO!" Draco backed away from the camcorder as if it had burned him. "What is this?"

 _"We seek a man who is not only immune to jealousy, but is spurred on by the knowledge he is being watched, studied, critiqued... loathed," Narcissa went on. "You may have me, and I may have pleasure, and my husband may have the experience of knowing what it is to be tied to a chair, gagged, and forbidden from using magic, whilst watching another man taste and touch and violate his wife of nearly two decades."_

"THIS IS VILE!" exclaimed Draco. "My parents!"

"Swingers, I told you," the Dark Lord hissed to Nagini, who nodded.

"My Lord, surely there must be a way to turn this off!" Draco drew his wand. "Do you reckon the Killing Curse will put us out of our misery?"

"Only if you use it on yourself, Malfoy." The Dark Lord stepped between the boy and the camcorder, his eyes not leaving the screen. It was clear Lucius Malfoy wouldn't go twenty-four years without a good shag. Did that make Lucius more of a man than he was – him, the bloody Dark Lord Voldemort? No. What a ridiculous thought! But then again…

 _"Should you fit with us," Lucius was saying, "should we be a solid match, I promise, we shall make it worth your while in ways you cannot currently conceive, to be discussed and decided at a later date. But for now, we are seeking to fill a position to last one night..."_

 _"One perfect, prolonged, pussy-pleasuring night..." interjected Narcissa._

 _"During which you, frankly put, shall fuck my wife while I watch..."_

 _"Lucius?" Narcissa sounded breathless, desperate._

 _"Yes?"_

 _"I want you now."_

 _"Now?"_

 _"Now!"_

They crashed together, kissing and touching and ripping at each other's clothes. The Dark Lord gasped. He felt a tightening in his trousers he hardly remembered. He'd been that way, once. He'd taken more than his fair share of ladies to bed. He'd had them in a hundred ways and left each feeling satisfied, even though his primary goal was always his own pleasure. He could have that again, couldn't he? There was a woman who wanted him, wasn't there?

One interested in tall, thin, hairless, noseless men…?

"NO!" Draco rushed forward, nearly knocking the camera off the tripod. The Dark Lord steadied it.

"I am sorry for disobeying you my Lord, and if you should kill me for it I'll understand, but we are not watching my parents have… have… have… you know what!"

"Relations?"

Draco blanched.

"Sexual relations," specified the Dark Lord.

"I knew what sort of relations you meant!"

"Fascinating sexual relations," said the Dark Lord, his eyes again fixated on the screen. "Your mother is an attract-"

Draco hit the fast forward button.

He had to hold it down for far too long before another face took up the screen.

"Greyback?" asked the Dark Lord and Draco in unison.

"I thought it couldn't get any worse than Snape," said Draco, momentarily distracted from the pain of having seen his parents in such a state.

"You haven't met Alecto," said the Dark Lord. "Let's hear it, then."

Draco stopped fast forwarding.

 _"I'd be better off with a bitch," snarled Greyback. "They go into heat, rut with the first male who comes along, and don't owl you the next day wanting to have dinner."_

 _"It's a wonder you're single, a great catch like you."_

"Bellatrix," said the Dark Lord, staring intently into the little rectangle. But she did not appear.

" _Fuck_ _yourself_."

" _Rather_ _fuck_ _myself_ _than_ _a_ _werewolf_ ," _muttered_ _Bellatrix_.

"Good," said the Dark Lord. He didn't want her sullied, least of all by Greyback. Not if she was going to become his… what would she be, he wondered. Certainly not a girlfriend. Mistress?

"Draco, how do you young people refer to a person with whom you are intimately engaged on a regular basis but not in a formal relationship?"

"Friend with benefits?" said Draco.

"Benefitsssss…" Hissed the Dark Lord. "Yes, that's it. But… friends? A friend is… perhaps too strong a word. How would one refer to a woman he takes to bed but not to dinner?"

"A whore?"

"Too vulgar. And implies payment."

"I don't know, then, my Lord. I suppose you could simply call her 'a fuck.'"

"I can't imagine your aunt will enjoy being referred to as 'a fuck.'"

"My aunt?" Draco went even paler; now he strongly resembled Professor Bins.

 _On screen, Greyback was snarling again. "I want a bloody woman."_

 _"We all have wants," said Bellatrix dismissively, off-camera. "And it doesn't seem to matter_ _what_ _we want; we women always seem to end up with dogs."_

"Indeed," said the Dark Lord. The screen went black. Draco pressed the fast forward button, but there did not appear to be any more to watch.

"Must be the end," he said. "Can't say I'm not glad it's over."

"How does this recording come about?" asked the Dark Lord.

"I…" Draco looked carefully at each button. "This one says record." He pressed it. The red button came on again. "I think, perhaps, this does it?"

The Dark Lord Accioed over a stool and sat upon it as most of the previously videos participants had. He smoothed his robes. "You can see me on the rectangle?"

"No," said Draco. "But I can see you through here, through this… er… this telescope." He was sure telescope was the wrong word for the viewfinder he was looking through, but it seemed close enough.

"Very well," said the Dark Lord. "Let's begin."

"Er… begin?"

"I am a man who needs no introduction."

"Are we… are you making a dating video?" asked Draco.

"Quiet, boy." He cleared his throat. Nagini curled up by his feet, resting her head on her coiled body. "I am a man in need of no introduction. Most are afraid to even speak my name: Lord Voldemort."

Draco shivered.

"I am seeking a woman."

"Bloody hell," whispered Draco. He should've opted to stay at school over the holiday.

"A woman who appreciates my genius, who fully supports my cause, who will support me even if it means great destruction for all she loves."

Neither of them noticed the drawing room door opening.

"A woman who enjoys torturing Muggles together, a woman who will not think twice about killing our common enemy, a woman who knows how to make a man feel like a man. A woman who is beautiful, loyal, and sadistic. One who will compliment me."

A woman stepped silently into the room, her eyes fixated on the Dark Lord.

"I want her to be my most faithful and devout follower, one who would not stop looking for me, or waiting for me, not even when the world looked bleakest, one willing to Crucio others into insanity simple for refusing to give up information about me. One willing to spend half a lifetime in prison for me. One who considers me her ideal man."

The woman in the doorway gasped.

"A woman with pale skin, wild, dark hair, a pure bloodline, a sham marriage, a trim figure, shapely hips, lovely breasts, soulful eyes… brown eyes framed by black lashes… heavy-lidded dark eyes that-"

"I LOVE YOU, TOO!" shouted Bellatrix. The Dark Lord swiveled on his stool to see her in the doorway.

"Bellatrix!"

"My Lord!"

"Come!" He held out his arms. She rushed into them. Their lips connected – well, technically, only she had lips… his hadn't quite managed to manifest during his return to having a body, much like his nose. Thankfully, other parts of his anatomy still worked. They kissed and caressed and seemingly forgot that Draco was even in the room.

"I wonder if I can Obliviate myself," said Draco. He glanced at Nagini. She stuck out her tongue, but not in that flicking way snakes do when they breath. She stuck out her tongue as if disgusted.

Leaving the camcorder behind, and quite content to never ever see it again, Draco rushed from the room. He turned at the doorway just in time to see the Dark Lord and Bellatrix, attached to each other as if fused together, slam against the wall, grasping at each other as his parents had in the recording.

"This is the worst day of my entire life," he said.

"This is the worst day of my entire life," echoed the voice of a girl. A young, pale, silver haired girl with large, bright eyes, a thin nose, and heart-shaped lips. A girl who looked little like neither of her parents, and yet, just a little like both. She switched off the telly. She stared at Draco.

He didn't look quite the same as he had in the video. He was a little heavier now, though not overweight, and his hair was thinner, though he did not have any noticeable bald spots.

"Why would you show me that?" she asked.

"You asked me how your parents came to be together," said Draco. He shrugged. "I showed you."

"I'm _twelve_!" the girl exclaimed. "You could have just told me they fell in love and lived happily ever after!"

"They're both dead."

"Until that part!" She plopped down on the couch. "Eww!"

They were visiting a small Muggle inn, the only place Draco knew they'd be able to find a VCR and a television, Muggle technology not found in Malfoy Manor… not in a long, long time.

"When Professor McGonagall told us where babies come from, she had a whole speech about watering cans and flowers. Not feathery masks and video dating!"

"Professor McGonagall doesn't have children," Draco pointed out. "Maybe she doesn't know how they're made."

"I'm never having children. Not after that." The girl stood and pantomimed vomiting.

"You'll change your mind," said Draco. "Shall we return to the Manor? Astoria wasn't feeling well when we left. I want to be back before the baby wakes from his nap."

"You realize I can never again look your parents in the face?"

"Relax." Draco rolled his eyes. He pulled the VHS tape from the VCR, shrunk it down to the size of a sickle, and put it in his pocket. "I fast-forwarded through all the parts you shouldn't see while you had your hands over your eyes."

"The entire video was nothing but 'parts I shouldn't see,'" she argued. "Though I suppose it's nice my mother thought my father was the ideal man… and my father thought she was beautiful, loyal, and sadistic."

"How romantic." Draco rolled his eyes. He held out his arm, ready to apparate. "Home, Delphini?"

"Alright," she said. "Wait, before we go… what are 'swingers'?"

* * *

 **A/N:**

Thanks for reading! Reviews always appreciated.

 **-AL**


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